


Pin 'em to the wall

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Aftercare, Danger Kink, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: You've always wondered why Devil May Cry has so many holes in its walls.  Vergil shows you...personally.
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 176





	Pin 'em to the wall

**Author's Note:**

> Just a spicy one-shot inspired by Discord. Not set in any of my series. Hope you like it!

“You know,” you say, as you lug the bucket of spackle into Vergil’s room, “Your brother doesn’t pay me enough to patch all these holes in his place. I swear there’s been at least a half a dozen individual holes, in each damn room.” You were tired, sweaty, and you never wanted to smell anything related to chalk again.

“Be thankful that he has the money to pay you,” Vergil replies, barely looking up at whatever book he’s reading as he relaxes on his bed. Usually you’d gripe about him not helping you, but this was all your mistake, accepting this ‘tiny little job’ from Dante. 

_“Just patch up the holes in the place,”_ he’d said, showing you a small stack of bills (you should have asked for the money first, you had a sinking suspicion he'd come back with two boxes of pizza, and sans money), _“shouldn’t take you more than an afternoon! I'll pay you once I get back.”_ He’d been right, but the work had been downright tedious, and everywhere you looked, there seemed to be YET another crater you had missed. Finally, you had reached Vergil’s room, the last one, and to your great relief, the elder brother seemed to take better care of his walls, as there was only one or two visible.

“What caused all this damage anyways?” You set the nearly empty bucket and knife down. “I first thought it was from hanging stuff up, but Dante doesn’t seem to be the type to appreciate artwork, and some of the damage is way too high, or too low.”  
You hear the book snap shut, and the slow creak of the mattress, and the suddenly ominous sound of footsteps approach from behind. You attempt to turn, to see what he’s doing, but he’s quicker, wrapping his arms around your chest, immobilizing you, his breath tickling your ear.

“You’ve been working so hard today, my pet” his voice is soft and husky, and even if he wasn’t holding you, it would be enough to keep you still, “so very, _very,_ hard. Perhaps it’s time to reward you.”

You know exactly what he’s getting at, but you still can’t help play dumb. 

“Well, I won’t say no to more money, in hindsight your brother was being far too thrifty,” and you can’t help but giggle at his exasperated sigh.

“You asked what the damage is from.” He holds you even tighter, and you lick your lips in anticipation. For a guy so dominant in bed, he’s not usually this forward at asking for it. What WAS he reading? “Let me give you a demonstration.” He releases you, and you begin to take off your dirty zip up hoodie, but his hands stop you.

“Stand up against the wall. Arms out.” he orders, and you’re confused. You love it when he takes charge, leaving you to release all of your control, and the tension that accompanies it. But this… this was an odd command, and you look back at him, eyebrows cocked. What the heck was he planning?

He stands there, motionless, allowing you to make your choice.

Ever so slowly, you do as he says, still clueless at what he has planned.

“You’ve seen those circus acts, the ones where the knife thrower demonstrates on a beautiful sidekick?”  
“Yeah?” A sudden chill rushes through your veins as you realize what he’s getting at, followed by a feeling of warm adrenaline.

Vergil relaxes and beside him, eight spectral swords, four on each side of him materialize, blades pointed directly at you. Your mouth dries instantly. They might be immaterial, but you’ve seen their effects (on both demons and Dante), and you know they pack the same punch as the real things. Your throat feels scratchy as you try to swallow, and for once, it’s not from spackle dust.

Ever observant, Vergil pauses. 

“Do you trust me?”

“What if you miss?”  
His answer is confident and serene.

_“I never miss.”_

You pause… This is Vergil, the man who’d never hurt you...but there’s always the chance. And the thought of that turns the trickle of adrenaline into a torrent.

“Do you trust me?” He repeats, waiting for your assent. There’s a few tense seconds as you mull it over.

“Alright...I trust you”

Vergil smirks in triumph.  
“Now...arms out, and relax…”

You do as he says, taking a deep breath, your arms go out in a lazy T-shape, and you can’t help it...you close your eyes. If this goes wrong, you can’t bear to look at his face. For a few heartbeats, there is nothing but silence. 

Then you hear it, feel it. A rush of wind, the sound of splintering wood, and a sudden tug on your sleeves

**WHUMP**

**WHUMP**

**WHUMP**

**WHUMP**

Eight times, in a steady rhythm, the wall behind you shakes, and after the first couple, you manage not to flinch. Your pulse is racing, beating four times as fast as the impacts.

“You did very well, pet.” His voice intrudes into the silence, cool, but with just a touch, the tiniest bit, of relief, “Now for your reward.”

You fully relax, and your arms go to fall down. Or, at least they would have, but as you open your eyes in confusion, you realize what’s happened. The spectral swords are still there, so close to your arms that they’ve pinned your sleeves to the wall, two on the top of each limb, two below, the blades a hair breadths away from your skin. The only way you’ll get out of this is by tugging, ripping your hoodie, or worse...causing more damage to the wall. Of course, Vergil could cause them to dissipate, but as he slowly approaches, he doesn’t seem to be in the mood to.

His cool hand caresses your cheek, while his thumb firmly holds your chin, forcing you to look into his sharp blue eyes. He’s always been considerably taller than you, but right now, you feel miniscule.

“Just... behave,” he whispers into your ear, punctuating it with a nibble on your earlobe, “and let me take care of you.”   
You pull away, ever so slightly, almost out of instinct, but instantly a familiar whoosh and **WHUMP** , right beside your other ear, and you risk a glance to see yet another blade in the wall, so close you can feel the buzz of demonic energy against your cheek.

 _“Behave…”_ Vergil warns, his voice lowers down to a dangerous tone, resonating with the frequency of the blade. You’re not sure which has you locked into place, the blades, or his commands. It’s not like you have time to think, as he kisses down your cheek, his plush lips ending up at yours. Wordlessly, he demands you part your lips, and you comply. He tastes of mint and honey, a remnant of the tea cup that sits on the nightstand.

His hand releases its grip, and he delicately drags his long fingers down your neck, pausing just a little bit to press against your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. The adrenaline that had once coursed through your veins has changed, catalyzed into something more arousing. Your breath hitches in your throat in anticipation.

His slender fingers drag agonizingly down your hoodie, and it takes all your willpower to not groan in frustration as the thick fabric dulls the sensation. In the last logical part of your mind, you know that protesting will only end up with more holes in the wall to patch up again, so you don’t test your boundaries.

You expect his hand to slip up your shirt, to caress your breast, maybe pinch or tweak your nipple as his lips follow his fingers and start nibbling down your neck. But instead, his fingers migrate down further, his thumb pressing against your crotch seam, the mere pressure starting off something in your core. You swear you can feel the wetness seeping through, and are certain the sensitive fingers of your captor can too.

The fly of your jeans is quickly undone, and his fingers slip in like a thief in the night, past your elastic waistband of your underwear, and between your already sopping wet folds.

You can’t help it, you needily moan against his mouth, the sound would be mortifying you in any other situation, but all you can think now is how much you need his touch, need _him._

He pulls away, but only for him to lavish attention on your neck, his teeth grazing against your delicate skin. You can feel his lips curve into a smirk as he manages to rip another moan, as his finger slips inside you, and curves just right, to hit that one spot. Between the thrill of almost being skewered, and his devilish digits working their magic between your thighs, you’re losing yourself in the pleasure, almost about to explode. Had you not been pinned, your legs would have just collapsed.

And then, it stops. The kisses, the soft murmurs, and the intoxicating touches. All gone. You blink, trying to figure out what’s going on, when something is firmly, but gently placed in your mouth. The taste of wood and varnish fills your mouth, and it takes a few seconds to realize something. What’s between your teeth is Yamato, or specifically her saya. You attempt to somehow talk around it, but Vergil shushes you.

_“Now now, kitten, you’ll take care of her, won’t you?”_

You can only give a little whimper of assent as he kisses your forehead, before kneeling.

“Now, I don’t want any teeth marks on her, or I’ll be forced to _punish_ you,” he warns, but it sounds less like a threat and more of a challenge, and it’s only out of respect for the ancient weapon, whose blade has protected both Vergil and you countless times that you resist the urge. to bite down.

It’s hard to see with your makeshift bit, but you feel your pants yanked down, and the cool air between your thighs, followed by warm breath.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and you shudder at the praise. His finger does a quick swipe, spreading your slick to the few remaining places you’re not wet. 

Even though you eagerly anticipate it, the warm wet feeling of his tongue licking a stripe down causes you to jerk, Yamato nearly dropping out of your mouth as you shriek.

A sharp nip on your thigh, painful, but not enough to cancel out the pleasure brings you back. You can hear him sigh in mock disappointment.

“Whatever am I going to do with you, kitten? You just won’t seem to behave..”

You muffle out an apology, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You want to obey, you really, _really_ do, it’s just so hard! A purred murmur indicates that you have been momentarily forgiven, and after a few moments of stillness, he continues his assault.

And what an assault it is! His tongue delving deep within you, lapping up your slick eagerly. Hitting every little spot that drives you wild. Restrained by the spectral swords, Yamato, and his threats, you’re forced to focus on the pleasure he bestows upon you, the sinful sounds coming from both between your legs, and him. Your thighs begin to quiver as you force your hips to remain still, and that tightness in your core gets more intensive. Part of you is terrified that he'll pull away at the last moment, robbing you of your release yet again.

But now, he hums in appreciation at the delicious nectar you have provided him, and somehow, for a brief his tongue manages to go even further within you.

“That’s it, kitten…” he croons, “ _let go._ ”

Somehow despite your vision going white, and your muscles going slack as the orgasm rips through you, you keep the precious devil arm between your teeth as a wail of pleasure escapes past it. Vergil continues tonguing you, drawing out every ounce of ecstasy.

But eventually your heartbeat slows to something resembling normal as he stands up and gently pulls Yamato out of your mouth. He inspects the pristine lacquered wood and hums in approval.

“Not a single mark, my sweet. You did well.” His praise is enough to extend your glow as he deeply kisses you, your arousal still on his lips.

Distantly, you’re aware that the spectral swords have dissipated, and you begin to fall forward, your muscles unable to carry your sudden weight. Thankfully, Vergil’s there to catch you, letting your bliss-addled body to fall into his arms. He carries you towards the bed, and even underneath his trousers, you can feel his cock, hard and demanding. You’re not quite done yet, it seems.

He makes sure you’re settled down to a coherent state as you can hear his belt buckle unclick, a soft rustle of cloth. You want to help him, but you’re so undone by pleasure, you just can’t even move from your position, laying face first in his luxurious duvet. You feel the foot of the bed sink slightly.

“On your knees, pet.” He orders, but there’s an understanding gentleness laced into it. You struggle to get up, to comply, but your limbs don’t seem to want to obey you. All you can is struggle to pull your legs in to give you the leverage you need, but your upper body won’t...or can’t listen.   
Vergil assists by firmly grabbing your ass and pulling you up. “Arms behind your back,” he requests, and that at least is something you’re capable of, even if you basically throw them behind you. He secures your wrists at the small of your back with a grip that is just shy of uncomfortable.   
“Relax…” he murmurs as he peppers kisses along your spine, and even though you’re still wearing your goddamn shirt, you can swear you can feel his lips on your skin. You can feel his length sliding through your folds, collecting wetness for what’s to come.

“There we go…” He whispers against your ear, “Just stay still for a little while longer.”

And with sudden swiftness, he plunges into you, and you can’t help but jerk and moan at the intrusion, the burn as you stretch around him. He pauses momentarily, allowing you to adjust, and then, only when he feels your trembles subside, and your moans turn into breathy whimpers, does he continue.

The pace is relentless, as he unleashes everything he has within you. His grip on your ass is going to leave you wincing every time you try to sit down for the next few days, and you know that you’ll have to wear long sleeves to cover up the bruises on your wrists. But at the same time, between laboured breaths, he murmurs soft words of encouragement and praise, as soft as the pillow your face is pressed against.

_“So obedient...”_

_“Such a shame you cannot appreciate how delectable you taste”_

_“You feel divine...”_

Your whimpers turn into moans, then into screams, only dampened by the pillow your face is pressed into, and the feeling of bubbling pressure rises up in your core once more. He’s not far either, if the way he slams into you, is any indication, and his praises become more and incoherent, punctuated by groans. But, just as you’re at the cusp, he does manage to say, between gritted teeth.

_“Once more, kitten.”_

You wail into the fabric, the pillow becoming soaked by both tears and drool, as you come hard, almost harder than before. Vaguely, you can hear a demonic growl above you, as he slams into you with such force, the bed shakes, before pulling out. You feel wet warmth splattering on your ass, and most undoubtedly your hoodie, but you don’t seem to mind. After all, what’s another stain on your putty smeared, full-of-holes hoodie? Besides, the state of your clothes is the last thing on your mind as he lets you go, and you collapse onto the blankets, completely exhausted. 

Drugged out on bliss, you are barely aware that Vergil leaves you momentarily, or of a warm cloth wiping your skin, only shuddering slightly as it brushes against your overstimulated clit. You can’t make out what he’s saying, but it doesn’t matter, his soothing voice slowly relaxes you, and you allow him to slowly, gently, undress you. A part of your brain jokes that usually you remove your clothes BEFORE these sort of things, but just like the state of your shirt, you can’t seem to find the energy to care.

You’re not sure if you’ve dozed off, or were unaware when he pulls your naked body close to his, and you snuggle closer in his arms. He gives soft kisses into your hair, and you feel content.

Eventually, you open your eyes, to see the bedroom wall. Now, instead of just two holes in the plaster, there are now an additional nine.

“Great,” you mutter without the usually accompanying annoyance, “Now I have more holes to patch up.”

“Mmm…” Vergil’s lips are at the back of your neck, sending familiar sparks down your spine, despite all you’ve been through, you still crave more. “I don’t suppose you would fill them in for... extra payment, would you?” His cock is already hard against your ass.

You smile, and press even closer to him.

“I could…” you slowly reply, “But this time...payment up front.” 

He doesn’t reply, but the way he rocks against you, the way his heartbeat speeds up, tells you all you need to know.


End file.
